


Please Tell Me We Have A Chance

by GhostEyeliner



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Because he thought Lewyn was cute?, Finn having a crush on this man he knew back then?, M/M, Takes place during Gen 2, more likely then you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 01:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15474657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostEyeliner/pseuds/GhostEyeliner
Summary: Sometimes, Finn wished things could've stayed the same as back then.





	Please Tell Me We Have A Chance

The Liberation Army had set up camp for the day, which they all, silently or not, thanked the Crusaders that they did earlier then they did most days. For the skies had opened up and allowed rain to pour down freely across the land, quite heavily too. Perhaps those legends of rain simply being tears of the fallen, and those divine were true. For both man and god, this war, this bloodshed, it could bring the most cold and stone of hearts to tears. Everyone had already retreated into their tents for the night, only going out to speak with another if absolutely necessary.

Yet here Finn was, trying to find someone now. Not even his Lord Leif, for he knew he was with his cousin and Lord Eldigan’s son. But instead someone he knew so long ago, someone he had fought alongside with while Lord Quan and Lady Ethlyn were still alive. Yet now, that man no longer fought on the battlefield, instead taking up the old position of Sir Oifey. Not that he was poor at it, in fact, Lord Lewyn was quite the talented strategist as well, an impressive feat for someone who came from such noble birth. Normally royalty or those of dukedoms didn't make the plan, they were the ones who led it, using their natural charisma and charm to make others fall in line. Yet, at least back then, Lewyn had proved himself capable of both. Though he never overstepped the line and allowed Oifey to be the role he was assigned to back then.

Now, he didn't know about the man. So different was he, no more tones that sounded so close to a song or mischief shining in his eyes. Now it replaced by a tone that was tried and distant, and eyes that only had a dull life in them. And what of his title? Sure, back then, he didn't care for being called Lord or Prince, but he had embraced his birthright and allowed his status as prince to be known to Lord Sigurd's army. But now, he showed hatred and even looking like he could turn ill at even being called a title, especially King.

The Battle of Belhalla, it changed him in so many ways. Not just in terms of his personality or the role in war he felt as though he should play, but the effects of the battle were upon his person as well. Finn had only saw it once, and it hadn't been intended. But he had saw it, and gods sometimes he wished he hadn't. Finn knew that his own survival over the years from so many life threatening injuries were nothing short of a miracle, but Lewyn’s? No man should be able to survive all that's upon his skin. There had been burn marks that created streams and patches of discoloured skin, they had almost made patterns a person could absentmindedly trace with their finger on the otherwise perfect fair flesh. Along with a scar upon the man's chest, one caused undoubtedly by dark magic, as it sometimes glowed a shadowy hue. Like the magic used was still alive, like it still affected him. It looked as though it went through his body, as he saw effects on both his chest and back. Like the magic had cut straight through his body.

Eventually, he found the man he had been looking for. What the hell was the man thinking though? Sitting out here on some rock in weather like this? The man could get sick, which would undoubtedly affect his ability to do any task asked of him. He just watched the other for a moment, watching how he was using magic to manipulate how the rain fell close to him. Making droplets dance around above his hand instead of allowing them to fall. Odd though, he didn't have a wind tome on his person, so how was he using wind magic? Was that just the power of Holy Blood? It wasn't his place to question, being of normal blood himself. So instead he pushed the thought to the side and approached the other. “Lord Lewyn, what are you doing out here?”

It took awhile for Lewyn to acknowledge him, he seemed to be find more amusement in watching what his magic could do to rain instead of Finn. When he finally brought his gaze up to meet Finn's, the raindrops he had been manipulating fell into his hand as he spoke. “Sir Finn, I could ask the same of you”

“I was looking for you”

Something resembling an amused laugh came from the mage. “That so? Is there something you needed of me?”

He paused for a second, why did he seek him out actually? Was it for some distant feeling of wanting to rekindle a bound they held so many years ago? The other survivors from back then who were fighting this battle, he never fought with them then, thus he never got that close to them. This was one of the few bonds he still had in this world. Is that why he sought him out? Before uncertainties started to settle in his mind, he just decided to speak once more. “I was simply wondering where you were. What drove you to be out here though?”

“It's calming, being out here. Isn't it amazing how despite everything that happens to us, things like this never change,” and again he started to play with the rain drops. Letting them trace small swirl patterns in the air instead of letting them follow their natural course. “The world doesn't change itself to account for personal tragedy”

Was he always like this? So thoughtful of everything and how they all connected together. Sure, he was quite capable of seeing the bigger picture way back then, he swore him and Sir Oifey could've been friends much younger due to this shared ability between them if they weren't at such odd ages to find a mutual bond with back then. How much did he truly know Lewyn back then? Or did the man change that much? Or was it Finn that had changed so much that he now noticed these things? “It is indeed,” was all he could say in reply to that.

“If you plan on staying out here, come sit at least,” Lewyn wasn't even looking at him, still absentmindedly playing with the rain. So he couldn't see the nod Finn had given before he walked over to sit beside the other, mindful to not be in the man's personal space. Yet, he could understand why Lewyn seemed focused on his own powers and what they could do. It was mesmerizing to watch in its own way. How simple wind magic could defy the basic path of rain. Basic routine like that, it was something so many took for granted. Seeing this just made him think about just how much routine their lives depended on. The routine of waking up at dawn when the sun had only just begun to rise above the horizon and carrying weapons and steeling oneself to a fight. And yet, they all hoped this routine would end, and just be replaced with another lacking bloodshed. Never would they break free of some kind of routine, some standard that they had to act up to everyday. It was just part of life, a tired yet always present part of life.

“Is that the only reason why you’re out here, because it’s calm?” He couldn't quite wrap his head around how Lewyn’s mind worked anymore. Not after the man had changed so much, though he had still surprised Finn even back all those years ago. For showing he had quite the decent amount of depth to his character beyond song like words and flirtatious behaviour with half their army.

“Does everything need some deep reason?”

“No, it doesn't. I was just curious, most people don't purposely sit in rain and let themselves potentially get sick”

Lewyn just shrugged, finally looking towards Finn. Gods, everytime he caught glance of his eyes, his heart sank. For how little they reflected the spark of life anymore, his whole face looked so close to dead. Dull eyes that look oh so tired, any expression beyond a frown and vague disapproval was rare and seemed to take effort to even do, unlike back then. “I'll be fine Sir Finn”

And so he nodded and turned his gaze away from the mage. His thoughts now whenever he thought about Lewyn always traveled to “back then”, before the massacre took everything away. Before so many lives were lost and so many families broken. He often had dreams of life back then, and what if’s. What if Lord Quan and Lady Ethlyn didn't die, what if they got to raise Lady Altena and Lord Leif? What if the Behella Massacre never happened. How different Jugdral would be to this day. What if people didn't have to wake up afraid of their children being taken to pointless sacrifices for a god with only ill intent and hatred for humanity.

“Sir Finn?” His voice brought Finn out of his thoughts to focus once again on the other man. For all he could speak of how much the man has changed, on a physical level, he really hasn't. Same fair skin, same small and lithe build that could make one think he’s never been in a war, a true battle before, and overall facial features, they were the same as then. And while his hair was longer now, it clung to his face the same way in rain as back then. Everything about him was almost frighteningly the same actually, like he didn't seem to age at all in all these years.

“Yes?”

“You seem distracted, is there something that worries you?”

“No, my apologies Lord Lewyn,” he shook his head as he spoke. Everything was so different, nothing was like it was before, before the flames took away Lord Sigurd’s army and before Travant’s lance took the life of his Lord and Lady and kidnapped their precious daughter. And that extended to the personalities the survivors of such tragedies. Such was life, and yet the truth still tasted bitter on his tongue.

“If you say so, Sir Finn. It would be a shame if your thoughts plagued you during battle,” his tone was harsh, and told the story of _'you better not die due to your foolish thoughts’._ Yet, this is how Lewyn showed he cared now. No longer was it with a smile and words that showed concern without making you feel weak or idiotic for your choices. But Lewyn had definitely been capable of that back then, oh gods yes. He had simply decided to not use them before. Though time, and the loneliness and anger at the world of being truly the sole confirmed survivor of those present even towards the end of Belhella’s massacre could make any soul turn sour and bitter towards everything. Even someone as kind and well meaning as Lewyn.

“I’m fine Lord Lewyn I assure-” his own sentence was cut off as a sneeze escaped him, at his own shock.

“Right,” he swore he could hear the others eyes rolling. Then a moment later, Lewyn stood up and turn to face him. “Well Sir Finn, perhaps you should retire for the night before you become any worse,” he held a hand out for the Finn to take, if he wished. And without hesitation, he did.  _ Gods, he really was quite beautiful like this _ . Yet, he shook his head before any other thoughts could be formed based of that first one.

“Of course, and you will be as well, right Lord Lewyn?”

“Yeah, there's no point in staying out here any longer” Lewyn mumbled.  _ 'Like there was one in the first place?’ _ was the comment Finn left unsaid. Then Lewyn gave a wave of the hand as a goodbye then seemed to start heading back to his tent. And without even thinking about it, Finn had followed the other instead of heading back to his. This, Lewyn did notice and addressed after getting about half way back to his tent, though if he had only noticed after taking steps or had known it before, he didn't say as he turned back and spoke. “Sir Finn, do you intend to follow me back?”

Ah, it was only then he had begun to really think about what he had been doing and something akin to embarrassment that belong more to a love struck maiden bubbled in his heart. He stopped immediately and tired to justify himself yet only managed to make a fool of himself. “Forgive me Lord Lewyn I-”

“Save it,” he sighed, he sounded oh so exhausted and then, he smiled. Lord Lewyn smiled. A sight so rare in this day and age that he ignored the normal anxiety he would have at the warmth in his chest in this moment, for he was just so pleased to see something he recognized about the other that wasn't skin deep. “Just this once I guess it’s fine. I presume even the most stoic of knights get lonesome,” there was humor in his voice! Like back then! Oh by the Crusaders he could cry for joy at this moment, yet he didn't. Only his features softening at this was a giveaway for the emotions swirling in his head. He swore he could hear the spark of life, of joy return to Lewyn’s eyes. Yet when he went to check, Lewyn’s back was already turned, walking back to his tent.

Sometimes, the change they had all faced due to all the hardships they had endured for so long with no reward beyond having another day to live and breath was unbearable, to face it all of it at once. It hurt to see so much suffering upon all those he once knew. Yet sometimes, things seemed to be almost like the past. This felt like a natural evolution of their past selves instead of who they all truly were day to day. It was the kindest thing this world had done for him in so long, it made him want to weep. Though he knew this change in Lewyn would fade back to the lifeless voice again soon, he allowed himself to indulge himself, just for once.

He silently thanked the gods for this one night of gentle laughter and small talk like that of the past.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I ship these two? God do I wish I knew.


End file.
